Almost a whole hour?

Some customers at Basin Sports… You just want to say “Get Out.” Guy wanted some new arrows cut to length of his old arrows. Okay, fine. No problem.

But then the guy starts running is mouth… “Yeah this is my last arrow.” Alright, not really caring about what you do with your splinters, but fine. “I shot this big old Buck this morning… nailed it. High shoulder hit. Blood was pumping out like a fire hose. Those Grim Reaper heads really cut them open, you know. But the critter ran off. The blood trail ran out about a hundred yards. Searched for that sucker for almost a whole hour. Gunna go back out and get another one. Gotta fill the tag you know.”

I chewed on my tongue as I cut the arrows. I had a lot I wanted to say… but instead I just did my job and kept my mouth shut.

I’m still kicking myself for not driving around the next bend and ripping off a magazine of .22 LR when I heard that from a guy I saw roadhunting down in the Manti-Lasal NF.
I was headed back to camp after hunting grouse, and stopped to see how the hunting had been for this guy. He said he’d wounded a 4 pt that morning, and never found it. Now he was out of his truck with a bow, trying to sneak up on one he’d just seen across the meadow. Jackass. Should have still been looking for the morning buck, and I wish I’d told him that. Of course, I was alone and he had a buddy, so probably the better choice.